A Mistaken Implication
by barneyrockz
Summary: In Kent, Darcy implies of his feelings, but Elizabeth understands him to mean Colonel Fitzwilliam was in love with her. Instead of simply letting the matter rest, she decides to comment, shocking Darcy with her reply.


School has started. : P I've had next to no time to write. Once I am better used to the schedule, I will be able to write more, but for the next week or so, don't expect more than one update, if that.

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_He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third recontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions—about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins' happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts?_

Darcy examined her face, worried that he might have said too much. What he said could easily be taken as encouragement to a suit that he was still unsure he would press. Part of him wished to take back the impulsive words, but yet another part of him yearned to see her reaction, to know that she was not unaffected by him. Still Elizabeth would not meet his eye as she stared fixedly at the path before them.

"I can only assume to understand what you imply," she said at last. Darcy's heart rate accelerated as he waited for her to take advantage of his momentary slip and go on bewitching him as she had done before. "But I feel I must ask you to entreat your cousin not to have any ideas in that direction. Though I like Colonel Fitzwilliam a good deal, I do not love him, nor would I consent to marry him." Darcy's eyes went wide. Colonel Fitzwilliam? She did not understand at all. He had been implying of his own feelings for her, not of his cousin's.

Her misunderstanding left him with an easy opening to assuage his blunder. She had offered his the perfect excuse, yet he could not take it. The words danced uselessly on his tongue, but his heart was rebelling against denying his love, for love was what it was.

It had not been a simple careless mistake. His subconscious had planned to say it, hoping for a sign of encouragement from her, but instead of offering what he had searched for; Elizabeth had misconstrued it into a sign of Fitzwilliam's attraction. Darcy would not let the moment pass.

"Fitzwilliam? No, as far as I know he has no designs in that quarter at the present." He could see Elizabeth's brow furrow in confusion. He kept his eyes on her, hoping she would see in there the secret he longed to tell her.

"But your words implied…" She trailed off and blushed brightly, before shaking her head in a minute gesture, something that would have gone unnoticed to any but the most intense observer. Could she not see the truth? He had fooled himself that all of his actions had been made to hide his imprudent attraction, but now he understood that every move he made was calculated to take himself to her side. Every word held another meaning, wanting her to know the whole of his heart. Every touch spoke of his love and devotion. Could she really have been so blind?

"You implied that I might stay at Rosing next time I was in Kent. I do not see how this is possible, unless I married your cousin." She spoke again, dragging Darcy back to the present.

"Can you not?" He replied, his hand reaching out to find hers. A becoming blush invaded her cheeks as she felt the contact. They had reached the gate opposite the parsonage now, but Darcy dared not move, hardly dared breathe, as she did not resist the touch of his hand.

"Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, I had hoped that you would stay at Rosings on your next journey to Kent, because I had dreamed that I might have the delight of having you as my wife. I love you most ardently and I must ask you to marry me, for without you, I shall never be complete." Elizabeth's shock was palpable in her face. Darcy had always assumed she had known; that she was just waiting for him to declare himself. Now he saw that she neither expected nor ever even considered it. Did the idea please her? Shock still conquered her face, leaving him no idea of what other emotions might be coursing within her. Would she refuse him? The idea had never even been considered until this very moment. Previously he had thought only of himself and his own feelings. All that would change. If she granted him the honor of her hand, he would use his lifetime with her to atone for his many mistakes.

Her mouth opened and he held his breath, waiting for the words that had the power to grant him a lifetime of happiness or damn him to a life on inconsolable misery.

"Forgive me for asking this," she said with a tremor in her voice, "but I must know, what is the history between you and Mr. Wickham?" He bit his lip, turning away from Elizabeth for the first time. A dark look crossed his countenance. It was only when he felt Elizabeth's warm hand press his hand that he gain enough courage to tell her.

He told her the whole terrible truth, sparing no details. It was done as much to relieve the burden of it on his conscious, as to clear himself of the accusations she had heard. The only thing that saw him through the sad and painful tale was Elizabeth's gentle pressure on his hand as she comforted him. Once the tale was done he looked back at her.

There was something in her face that was not present before. A tenderness seemed to lurk in her eyes as she looked at him. Biting her lip, she looked down as a light blush covered her face.

"I find that I have yet to answer the question you posed earlier to me. Would you be interested in the answer now?" The smile that had long since died as he recounted his history with Wickham reappeared in response to her teasing.

"Are you ready to answer it?" Her eyes returned to meet his steadfast gaze, and they held all that he could ever wish for.

"Yes."

"Yes, you are ready to answer my question, or yes, you will marry me?" This was far too astonishing to believe.

"Both." Darcy grin intensified and he stepped closer to her. His gaze darted from her eyes to her lips in a silent entreaty. Satisfied that the action would not be unwelcome, Darcy leaned in and deposited a lingering and sweet kiss upon her lips.

The sound of footsteps on the gravel walk broke in to their moment. Mr. Collins stumbled down the drive, his head turned away from the two lovers. Neither Elizabeth nor Darcy dared move as they stood in each other's embrace.

A startled thrush took off suddenly, causing Collins to turn. The bird was quickly forgotten as he stared at his cousin and his patroness' nephew locked in an intimate embrace.

"Mr. Darcy," he stammered, "Cousin Elizabeth, what are you doing?" Elizabeth colored, but Darcy only smirked and tightened his hold around Elizabeth.

"We were just clearing up some misunderstandings, Mr. Collins. No need for you to concern yourself. In fact, we should be done in another minute, if you wouldn't mind waiting back at the parsonage." Darcy spoke calmly, but his resolve wavered slightly as Elizabeth turned her head to his chest to hide her giggles. Collins continued to look on in open mouthed shock.

As Elizabeth's cousin and a man of the clergy, there were many things he should have said. He should have demanded to know Darcy's intentions. He should have threatened to write to Mr. Bennet. He should have declared that they must marry. Yet, Collins could utter no words. He could only give Darcy a low bow and walk back to the parsonage.

Meanwhile, Darcy was looking down at Elizabeth, whose laughter had advanced into loud bell-like peals. Darcy kissed the top of her head. Finally her laughter died down enough for her to compose herself.

"I thought we had cleared our misunderstandings already, Mr. Darcy. What do we need the extra time for?" Elizabeth asked teasingly.

"Your cousin interrupted a very important part of that, and I think it only fair that we should have some extra time to finish." Without waiting for her answer, Darcy leaned in and kissed her once more.

"Yes, you are right." She said once the kiss had ended. "That was definitely a most pleasant way to clear our misunderstandings. In the future, I think it would be best to clear all our disagreements in this way." Darcy could do naught but agree.

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I have finally broken through my Bronte induced depression. YAY!


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